


Does He Like You Back?

by Soncasong



Category: Charité | Charité at War (TV)
Genre: Confidants - Freeform, Conversations, Especially for Children, First Crush, Hospitals, Injury Recovery, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Otto is an excellent role model, War sucks, World War II, who are not significant at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:00:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soncasong/pseuds/Soncasong
Summary: Emil confides in Otto, Otto reveals a small secret. Alternatively: even Emil can see Martin is in love with Otto.
Relationships: Otto Marquardt/Martin Schelling
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Does He Like You Back?

Dr. Jung’s arrival at the Charité was a godsend. The chaos of the air raid that night, with Sauerbruch preoccupied with overseeing the safety of the other patients, could have spelled the end for Emil. Otto did not know if he could forgive himself if the little boy died.

Martin had taken him up on the offer of the beer, surprisingly, and Otto had resigned himself to his growing affection for the other man. The chances of reciprocation were shaky, and the possibility of rejection was both heartbreaking and dangerous. So Otto sated himself with furtive glances between busy shifts, teasing grins hinting at mischief just innocuous enough to be acceptable, to quell the ache in his chest. Still, he appreciated Martin’s little treat, the alcohol a luxury during war time, even if the other man most definitely only saw Otto as a colleague. 

He milled about the sickbay, changing Emil’s sheets, with the memory of their informal meeting still fresh on his mind. Otto, drunk on cheap beer and Martin’s presence, had begun belting out the first few lines of “Erika” in jest and Martin had, for once, joined in. Anni had come and scolded them for making so much noise in the middle of the night. The two of them had gawked at her and exploded in laughter. Even now, just thinking about the absolute exasperation on Anni’s face brought a smile to Otto’s lips. 

“Are you okay, Mister Otto?” Emil called weakly from his bed. Otto snapped back to the present, quickly dropping the goofy grin on his face before nodding.

“I’m fine, Emil.”

The boy sighed, a sound much too old for his little body, “I wish I could be happy like you.”

There was something unexpected abou Emil’s statement. Granted, today was the first day his dosage of morphine has been reduced, and newly lucid patients tended to get into moods. Still, Otto’s heart clenched at the sight of the little boy’s forlorn expression. He gently plopped down next to Emil and lightly booped his nose.

“You got my blood,” Otto said, keeping his tone playful, “So you should have been infected with some of my happiness, right?”

Emil giggled, “That’s not how it works!”

Otto shrugged dramatically, smiling, glad to have helped raise Emil’s spirits. However, as he began to stand and resume working, Emil’s face quickly dropped into a frown. His expression was grim, far grimmer than any ten year old had the cause to be. The sudden change in his mood was a bit disorienting. Maybe they started reducing the morphine too early. Otto settled back down, gently ruffling the little boy’s hair.

“Are you okay?” 

Emil pointedly looked at Otto, voice small, “I miss Kalle.”

Oh. 

Otto could relate. War was an ugly thing, violently tearing people apart. Otto did not know a single person who had not lost someone they cared about; many of his old friends were dead. Friedrich, who used to steal apples for the schoolboys from Fraulein Gottfried's garden, burned in a flaming metal cage over the British sky. Stefan, whose green eyes Otto thought encompassed the whole world that lazy summer, a gaunt yellow husk entombed beneath the Russian permafrost. Karl, who shared his beers and cigarettes during the rare lulls at the field hospital, his brain scattered by a stray bullet as he collected the wounded from the front.

There was something inherently unfair about it all, how childhood was so easily ripped away from kids like Emil. Otto vaguely remembered something his mother once said about how she was glad her children did not grow up during war. Seeing the hollow look in Emil's eyes, Otto would have to agree. 

He rubbed a hand in Emil's hair, careful with his own strength, "I get it. It's hard," Otto leaned in, making sure no fanatic nurses were within earshot, "Hopefully, it will be over soon."

"He was my best friend, Mister Otto," Emil sighed, "What am I supposed to do without him?"

Tears pooled at the corners of the little boy's eyes. Otto quickly plucked a few tissues from the nearby nightstand and gently tapped them away.

"You get better. And then you go out there and you do him good."

"How?" Emil sniffled.

Otto paused. He had seen so much death and suffering, watched the life drain away from so many wounded soldiers and civilians, that there was no longer much gravity to the concept of death. In fact, Otto should not be getting as close to a patient as he is to Emil, the chance for loss was too great. But he was never good at following rules.

So Otto mustered up the best he could, "You live for both of you. Enjoy life so you can tell Kalle about everything you did when you meet again."

Emil contemplated his words before muttering, "It feels like there's a hole in my heart. It didn't feel like this when Noah died. Or Liesl, and she was the prettiest girl in my class. Just Kalle."

And then it clicked. Why the loss in Emil's eyes ran so deep, much deeper than Otto expected. Like losing Stefan. Or late at night, when his imaginations conjured rogue omens and held sleep hostage, losing Martin.

Otto leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Did you love Kalle?"

Faster than he expected, Emil nodded, "You won't tell on me?"

Otto shook his head. Before he could stop himself, his traitorous tongue released his most guarded secret, "I'm like that too."

Emil's eyes widened. Hastily, Otto put a finger over his own lips, a signal for Emil to be quiet. He most definitely should not have said that. Young children were easily influenced by Nazi ideology. He could be exposed at any second. Yet, if Emil was truly like him, then maybe it was good for the little boy to have a role model. Someone to look up to. 

"I won't tell anyone, Mister Otto," Emil said resolutely. Then, in a lowered voice, he whispered, "Is there a boy you like?"

Otto chuckled. Well, at least small talk like this might help Emil keep his mind off Kalle. Otto decided to be honest, "Yeah. That nurse that helped me carry you down to the bunker."

"Mister Martin?"

Otto nodded. Emil giggled, "Does he like you back?"

Otto scoffed, "I wish. He doesn't… Doesn't know."

"You should tell him."

Otto shook his head, "Don't think I ever will. It's too risky."

"I think he likes you too," Emil declared triumphantly. 

"That's just wistful thinking, Emil," Otto shook his head again, smiling at himself, "I gotta go, before Christel gets on my tail for slacking.” 

He put a finger over his lips and cheekily winked at Emil, “Our secret?"

Emil nodded conspiratorially, "Our secret."

* * *

  
  


Bedrest was treating Otto well. No work, no war, and no nagging Anni; any attempt by her so far to lecture him has been met with a glare from one of the Sauerbruchs. Otto was recovering, he needed to get better quickly so they had more hands to help around the Charit é. Martin, bless that man, was doting on him constantly. Somehow, between busy hours at the makeshift sickbay , Martin found his way to Otto with little gifts or anecdotes he managed to collect. Otto’s table was littered with old newspapers, their entertainment column completely filled with Otto’s attempts to stave off the boredom, flowers, some more wilted husks than glowing petals, and a Nazi propaganda pamphlet that the two of them had a good laugh over, its pages still championing victory as the Allied tanks rolled into Berlin. It was rather nice to be spoiled.

Today, however, Martin's present was a little different. 

"Otto? You've got a visitor."

Otto looked up, perplexed. Other than Martin, only Anni and Karin visited him, and they were never accompanied by such an announcement. From where Otto was sitting, Martin appeared to be alone.

"Are you trying to prank a sick man?" Otto pouted.

Martin shook his head, opening his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a little blur popping out from behind his body.

"Hello Mister Otto! It's me!"

"Emil! You've gotten so big!"

The little boy scampered up to the bed, Martin trailing behind. He pulled Otto into a hug.

"I heard you needed blood, but there wasn't any. Why didn't someone give you their blood?"

Otto chuckled, not knowing where to even start explaining the intricacies of blood types to Emil, "Well, it's a little more complicated than that."

Martin reached out to ruffle Otto's hair, a risky little indulgence in the crowded ward. Otto leaned into the touch; no one seemed to pay them any mind. 

"Otto loves giving,” Martin said fondly, “But he's not too good at taking. His blood is the same." 

Emil's eyes widened. He nodded, seeming satisfied at Martin's explanation. 

“I have to go now,” Martin said apologetically, “The boss is expecting me. There’s still a lot to do. We have to salvage the Charit é.” 

“You’ll come by later?” Otto asked, despite already knowing Martin’s answer.

“Of course.”

One fond look later and Martin was gone, ever dependable. Otto let his gaze linger before turning to Emil, “So, what brings you here?”

“I’m here because mama needed to get a checkup,” Emil said, “And I wanted to see you again.”

“You’re doing good?”

“Yep! The Americans give out a lot of candy!” Emil reached into his pocket, pulling out a lemon drop and depositing it in Otto’s lap, “Here. Are you ok, Mister Otto?”

Otto waved him off, “Just a flesh wound. You keeping out of trouble?”

“Yep!” Emil said, “Some of my schoolmates died fighting in the Volkssturm, but I stayed home with mama and hid.” The way the little boy said that so casually broke Otto’s heart. He vaguely wondered if Emil could be able to have a normal childhood now, with the fighting over.

Emil looked around before lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I told you it would work out.”

Otto burst out laughing, turning some heads in the makeshift recovery ward. He settled himself down, trying to calm his quiet giggles. Emil, the little brat, had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“Guess so,” Otto said, “I took your advice pretty well, yeah?”

“Yep! And I listened to yours too,” Emil smiled, “I’m going to become a doctor like you, so I can help people. I think Kalle would have liked that.”

Otto gave Emil a sympathetic smile. Healing took time, but Emil was more insightful and mature than he ever was when he was younger. He reached out and gave Emil a firm pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah. I think he would have. Are you excited to go back to school?”

Emil made a face and Otto burst out laughing again. Later, after Emil’s mother had collected the little boy and apologized for the intrusion, Otto had popped the little lemon drop into his mouth and smiled. The war was over. Life is moving on.

* * *

  
  


“Martin?”

The other man lowered his hammer and turned to face Otto, “Yes?”

“Do you want to have kids?”

Martin’s face morphed into something unreadable before he burst out laughing. He carefully placed the hammer on the ground then closed the distance between him and Otto. His hands found their way up to Otto’s face.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Otto smiled, leaning into Martin’s palm, “I thought it would be nice. Just thinking about the future.”

It would be nice, after they fixed up their little room. Sauerbruch had not batted an eye when Otto declined his offer of a private room and declared that he was going to move in with Martin. As soon as he was back on his feet, Otto began fixing up the little apartment between shifts in the sickbay, the dusty room damaged from air raids and artillery fire. A cozy space, all their own. 

“I’m pretty sure,” Martin said slowly, “That marriage comes before children.”

“Yes,” Otto said, a twinkle in his eyes. 

Martin’s eyes widened. He chuckled, bringing Otto in for a quick, chaste kiss. Otto smiled into the kiss. There would be plenty of time to talk about those future kids. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if that little boy that died of diphtheria in episode six is Emil or not and I really do not want to confirm. A small idea that popped into my head but kind of went nowhere. At least there's a fic of it now? My strange obsession with minor characters strikes again.


End file.
